Legend of the Golden Sorcerer
by Mister Wonderful
Summary: This is the legend of a boy who became a slave, a slave who became a wizard, and a wizard who became a conqueror. Powerful and intelligent Harry. Very powerful Voldemort. Dangerous Death Eaters. Action. AU.
1. A Legend Begins

Hey all! I've had this little plot bunny running around in my head for quite some time, and so I finally decided to do something about it. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does, I'm not making any money, this is purely for entertainment blah blah blah. I am just a wee little boy with an overactive imagination.

-

It was Halloween night. The sky was unnaturally black and the air unnaturally cold. As the wind howled outside his home James Potter could not help but shiver. Dread crept up from the pit of his stomach. He knew that something was amiss. But he dared not contemplate on what might be the reason; instead he looked over from his place by the window at his wife and son. To an outsider it would look as if the abnormality of the weather conditions did not affect them, but James knew the thoughts swimming in his wife Lily Potter's head. The dark shadows under her eyes were a dead giveaway. But she did not show it--instead she focused on playing with their fifteen month old son. She could not help a small smile from creeping upon her lips as she gazed lovingly upon her baby boy. 'He's so beautiful,' she thought as his intelligent green eyes captivated hers.

She had been told that she was a very lucky mother. The healers at the wizarding hospital of St. Mungo's had called her little Harry a miracle-not only for his beauty but for his magic as well. She always knew he was going to be different, but she never realized by how much. According to the healers, Harry's magical essence was nigh on perfect. Apparently he had performed accidental magic while still in the process of being born. Perhaps that was why giving birth to him hadn't been that painful. But anyways, it scared her to the bone, since not days before Harry's birth she and James had been contacted by their old Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore.

He had said that he had come across a prophecy dictating a possible connection between Harry and the Dark Lord Voldemort. According to this prophecy, either Harry or her friend Alice's son Neville was destined to be the only person capable of defeating the Dark Lord. She had to admit that this gave her such a feeling of fear that it almost completely enveloped her. Her baby boy, born into days of unrelenting darkness, was quite possibly going to be the only combatant capable of casting the darkness down. 'Why does it have to be my Harry?' she asked herself numerous times. But then she would look at her precious boy, and she would feel secure. Harry had that effect on people: wherever he went sanctity followed.

James smiled from his place at the window as Harry stood up and walked over to him. James reached down and picked his son up and laughed as Harry took off his glasses and put them on himself. James then started placing kisses all over Harry's face as Harry giggled and said "No! No kissies!"

And just as the fear in James' heart was beginning to die down, it struck back with greater force than ever before. Alarms began going off in his head, and immediately he ran and handed Harry over to his wife.

"Lily! Take Harry and go! I'll hold him off! Now!" James looked desperately at his wife and pleaded with her to leave.

BAM! The front door to the house was blown off its hinges, and in the doorway stood the Dark Lord Voldemort, standing tall and cloaked in black from head to toe, with his pale face covered in shadows from his black hood. All light seemed to shy away from him, as if even it feared him. Beneath his hood his red eyes burned with insatiable power.

"Knock knock."

Even just that simple phrase was enough to fill James and Lily's hearts with fear. Voldemort's voice was so cold that it seemed to freeze all the blood in the veins, and then the bones; and the coldness would travel throughout the body until it froze the very heart, and one could do nothing but dwell on fear and the fate about to befall oneself.

Somehow though, Lily was able to break free from this enchantment. Perhaps it was because of the need she felt deep inside her to get her child out of there; however it was not something one ponders about when the life of a child is on the line. Regardless of how she was able to do it, she gave one last look at her husband as she turned around and raced towards the back door. She had not made it seven feet before Voldemort snapped his fingers and she froze. Cold laughter echoed in the otherwise silent room.

"You should know by now that you cannot escape me."

James' eyes filled with hatred as the Dark Lord approached him. "I will kill you," he said with such venom in his voice that it frightened Lily, but Voldemort was not fazed.

"Ah yes, James, you may try but you will never succeed, powerful though you may be." The Dark Lord lowered the hood of his cloak, revealing his handsome face. "If only you had accepted my offer James, and not defied me. Three times I believe you have openly challenged me. You and your family would then have been under my protection and I would not be here to terminate the threat you pose-"A hex escaped from the wand no one had seen James draw, but the Dark Lord easily sidestepped it. However, it exploded right as it passed.

"Oh my James you would indeed have made a great lieutenant!" James stared on in shock as the smoke from the explosion cleared and revealed a perfectly unharmed Lord Voldemort. "Not even those of my inner circle have the capability to control the execution time of their spells! Your father would be most proud of you, were he still alive to witness this," the Dark Lord said, smirking. "But alas, it is late, and thus I must hasten this meeting."

"Yes because Dumbledore will be here soon! He was alerted the minute you stepped on our property!" Lily shouted confidently. Voldemort only laughed.

"I know, young Lily. However, he will never make it here in time. Right now he is a little…stuck…in apparation. He cannot arrive here until I let him. So for right now, you three are mine. But rest assured, for I will not disfigure your bodies too horribly. I would not deny your family a proper funeral."

The Potter's living room sofa suddenly lifted off the ground and rushed towards Lily and baby Harry, and promptly exploded as James' hex hit it. James then destroyed the armchair before it could reach him and changed the animated carpet trying to wrap around him into a magnificent lion. The lion charged at Voldemort, who in turn transfigured the lion into a multitude of snakes. He hissed at them and together they slithered towards James, ready to strike. Pointing his wand at the ground, James unleashed a wave of flame that incinerated the snakes and then apparated to the left of Voldemort, unleashed a barrage of curses, and then apparated onto his right, where he was promptly hit by a spell and thrown against the wall of his home.

"You think yourself to be a match for me James?"

James couldn't reply as he was lifted off the ground by Voldemort's magic and thrown like a rag doll against the ceiling, dropped to the ground, and then flung through the wall. James coughed and moaned in pain. His body ached terribly.

"JAMES!" Lily yelled, and tried to get to him, but she was unable to move. The magic Voldemort had placed on her was strong. Ignoring Lily's outburst, Voldemort walked towards the supine James.

"You may be stronger than my followers, but my abilities are beyond comprehension."

"T-then why-"James panted as he tried to sit up, "are you afraid of my son?"

"You are mistaken. I fear nothing." At this James laughed out loud and then clutched his chest as it jolted with pain.

"You would not be here if you were not afraid of him. Of what he will become-"

"_Crucio_." James cried out in pain as the Cruciatus Curse was placed upon him. His whole body was being stabbed with thousands of red hot knives.

"Yes YES SCREAM!" Shouted Lord Voldemort in glee as he witnessed the defiant James Potter writhing in agony. Flicking his wand, Voldemort ended the curse. James twitched lamely on the ground as steam rose off his body. Little Harry cried out. He didn't understand what this man wanted with his dad. The sudden noise from Harry caught the Dark Lord's attention. Voldemort snapped his fingers, releasing little Harry from his paralysis. With a flick of his wand little Harry was ripped from his mother's arms and summoned to the Dark Lord, who ignored Lily's desperate calls for him to return her son. Cradling the child almost lovingly in his arms he gave another wave of his wand and James and Lily were tied to two chairs he had simultaneously conjured.

"Now James I have decided to give you one last chance to take my offer. If you accept I will of course let you and your wife live, but unfortunately the child must be eliminated-"

"I will never be your lapdog Voldemort!" James sneered with so much hatred in his voice. It suddenly became very hot in the room and the air began to tingle with magic. "If you hurt him Voldemort, I will tear you apart with my bare hands."

"It's truly a pity James. For your defiance you will of course be killed." Voldemort raised his wand at the two older Potters. They just glared back at Voldemort, who suddenly lowered his wand. "But not before your precious child."

Lily screamed. She desperately fought against the bonds that held her down, but it was to no avail. "Please! Please! I beg you Voldemort! Take me, kill me instead! Please! Don't kill him!"

Voldemort only laughed. "That is very touching my dear. A mother's love is very strong indeed. Your turn will come soon enough." He looked down at the boy in his arms, and the boy looked back up at him. The boy's gaze was entrancing, and Voldemort found himself respecting the strength the young toddler had in him already. He would have been a great wizard, Voldemort thought. Powerful; yes very powerful. Unfortunately, that power could not be allowed to exist. It was much too dangerous. He could not in good conscience let his potential downfall live. He set the child down on the floor before him. The boy's big green eyes stared straight into his own red ones, curiously. It was almost with reluctance that the Dark Lord looked back up at the two parents, and spoke.

"Yes, yes it is time for the curtain to close on this little story. Perhaps if there had been no prophecy I would have taken him for my own, but even I cannot change reality. Say goodbye, James and Lily; but do not cry, for you will meet him soon in the afterlife." Lily burst into tears, pleading for the Dark Lord to let her beloved son live. James struggled against his bonds with all his might.

"Voldemort DON'T DO THIS!" He roared. But it was too late.

"_Avada Kedavra."_

The green light rushed at the young child, who merely stared at the spell in curiosity. The parents cried out in horror as the cold, rushing sound of death filled their ears. Voldemort only looked on as his Killing Curse reached the young child. Funny how the child's eyes were the exact same color of the spell. Normally he could see the reflection of the green light in the victim's eyes, but with Harry the spell blended in.

"HARRY!" Both parents screamed with all their might. James burst free from his bonds and was just about to summon Harry out of the way when a bright light forced him to shield his eyes. It was a golden light of unparalleled magnificence. There was a horrifyingly pain-filled scream. A powerful force knocked him off his feet. When he was finally able to see again, he looked to where Harry and Voldemort had been. There was nothing there, save a dark bundle and a huge scorch mark. He rushed over to it. The dark bundle was a singed pile of robes; lying on top of the bundle was a black yew wand. Voldemort's wand.

But Harry and the Dark Lord were nowhere to be found.

-

AN: And there's the first chapter. Hopefully I'll have the next out pretty soon!


	2. The Student

James Potter sighed. He had had the most annoying week ever. First, he had been getting reports of increased werewolf activity out around London. Apparently, some new rogue leader had decided that there needed to be more werewolves, and London was the new hotspot for werewolf 'initiation' parties. Then, he had heard that an entire clan of vampires had been killed out near Rome. Not that he was complaining, really. The Italian magical government had been asking for help from its fellow nations in dealing with the surviving vampire clans for over fifty years; though it was a scary thought to think that suddenly an entire clan had vanished. The thing that really took the cake, though, was the report of increased Death Eater activity out in Albania.

James sighed again. The Death Eaters hadn't been seen since the Great Arrests after the fall of Voldemort.

The fall of Voldemort. James would always remember that night. It was the night that his fifteen month old son had died for the world. The Dark Lord had been defeated at the cost of his young son. James could feel the familiar anger beginning to rise up.

Stop, he told himself. Crying about it wasn't going to make Harry come back. He had already cried enough tears for his beloved son. At least his son had died a hero's death, no matter how unfair a death it was. 'He deserved to live his life. If anything I should have died in his place,' he thought.

The clock struck nine. With a third sigh James decided that he should be getting home. Lily would no doubt be worried about him, especially since he was supposed to have left at six. It was his early day of the week. But, he had stayed behind to catch up with some of the paperwork. Who knew that being a First Class Auror had so much paperwork?

James gathered up his documents, placed them into the appropriate folders (it seemed to him that he was the only Auror to actually do this. So many times he had found documents in completely unrelated folders), and separated the appropriate folders into stacks on his desk. At least he could still be organized.

Finally, he was ready to leave. With one last check to make sure everything was where it should be, he exited his office.

When James finally arrived at his home, it was almost nine forty-five. As he left his office he had gotten caught up with one of the young Auror hopefuls. What the kid was doing in the Auror office past nine o'clock, James didn't know. When James had been a recruit, good old Alastor Moody had them doing drills at that hour. Perhaps that one had been let off early. Or skived off.

"Lily I'm home!" He called out into his house. It was a nice home; it had been in the possession of his family for generations. It had a nice homely feel to it. It wasn't a monstrosity like his parents' old manor had been, but it wasn't completely quaint. All in all, James could find no fault in it.

"Lily?" He walked into the kitchen, wondering why his wife hadn't answered him. He wasn't surprised to see her standing by the table with her hands on her hips. She had a scowl directed straight at him. "Umm hi Lils."

"James, I thought you said you were going to be off early today?" She said.

"About that…well I just was caught up in work…and you know how time flies when you're having fun!" She didn't smile at his attempt at humor.

"James you promised me we'd go out tonight. Remus even came over and everything!"

'Crap,' James thought. 'Forgot about that. Not good.'

"Aw Lils I am so sorry. I just got caught up with work, and forgot." He put on his best 'sorry' face and hoped.

She approached, slowly. James wasn't going to survive. He closed his eyes, waiting for the reprimand to come, only to receive a kiss!

"Oh James you know I can't stay mad at you when you pull that look. It's too cute." Lily smiled sweetly at her husband. "And I know how hard you've been working lately. Sirius flooed and told me all about it. Was he serious when he said that Death Eaters have been sighted again?"

The playful mood vanished. James face became serious, which was odd, because normally he'd crack one at her mentioning 'Sirius' being 'serious.' "Yes Lily, he was. We knew we hadn't gotten all of them with the arrests, but we have no idea why they are gathering now."

Just then the sounds of arguing could be heard. A young woman's voice screamed "Matthew! Give me back my wand!"

James smiled. Home sweet home. His two children always cheered him up, even after thinking about Harry. James wondered if Harry would have enjoyed having younger siblings. He would have been the one they had looked up to.

Just then the culprit ran into the kitchen, followed closely by his sister. "Oh hey, Mom, Dad. How's it going?" He asked with a smile on his face. Lily sighed in exasperation.

"Matthew, give your sister her wand back." Lily commanded. The young boy only gave her a cheeky smile.

"Nuh uh she's got to catch me first." With that he ran out of the kitchen, presumably to hide somewhere. The girl growled in frustration, and quickly ran after him.

"Sometimes, I wonder why we even had children." Lily said with a small sigh. James only laughed.

-

A young man was standing in a clearing, deep into an uncharted forest. The trees were so dense that the daylight, if it were not the evening, could not penetrate the foliage, making his surroundings all the darker. The air was quiet and stale. He stood completely still, listening for any sound. His breathing was calm and controlled. He would not let that give him away. Its hearing was very good, as was its sense of smell. He knew it was after him. It was he who had provoked it, after all. He would do this without magic tonight. He always enjoyed a challenge. He was dressed only in black combat pants and a skintight black shirt; he was not wearing his combat boots for this. After all, _it_ didn't need boots. Plus, he enjoyed the feeling of the smooth grass on his bare feet.

There was a slight rustle in the distance. It had just grazed some leaves, no doubt. Pitiful. It should have more stealth than that. The young man shifted his eyes across the line of trees. It knew where he was and it was most likely inching towards him. The young man knew that it expected a nice meal tonight and laughed to himself. Let it try.

There was a low growl to his left. He shifted his eyes to the origin of the sound. There was a pair of eyes, glowing yellow in the darkness, staring straight at him. The young man met the eyes with his own eyes and smirked. The challenge would soon begin.

With a howl the eyes disappeared to be replaced with a beast. The beast bounded out of the darkness and jumped towards the young man. The young man dodged to the right. The beast immediately twisted around and swiped its clawed hand at the man, who agilely dodged once again. The beast snarled and swung again with its other hand. The young man only laughed as he stepped out of its deadly path. As quick as lightening the boy lashed out and struck the beast's head with the side of his foot. The beast howled in pain and stepped away from the man. Regaining control of itself, the beast began to circle the young man, its yellow eyes glinting dangerously in the darkness. The boy watched it carefully. It would not do to let his guard down.

Without a sound the beast rushed at the young man. The beast leaped, intending to land on the boy and crush him with its monstrous weight, but amazingly the boy reached up and grabbed the beast in midair and threw it back down to the ground. Without wasting a second the boy slammed a side kick right into the beast's chest, knocking the beast back a few feet. The beast cried out once again. The situation was not going as it had planned.

Calmly, the young man walked towards the beast, which got up on all fours and growled dangerously. As soon as the boy was in striking distance the beast thrust its claws at the boy's abdomen. With surprising speed the boy caught the limb in his hand and pulled it towards himself, extending the arm of the beast. He brought the other hand up and struck the joint of the extended arm. There was a loud crack and the beast wailed in pain. The boy, keeping control of the injured limb, brought his foot up to the beasts face in a powerful kick while simultaneously pulling on the arm. The beast's head snapped back, and another loud crack was heard as the beast's neck broke. The boy let go of the arm and the dead beast collapsed to the ground. The boy smiled down at the corpse. He was disappointed that the werewolf had not proved to be more of a challenge. He had relied on only his strength and the werewolf still had been no match.

The boy heard clapping behind him. He turned around to see his teacher standing at the edge of the clearing. 'So he had been watching after all,' the boy thought.

"You did wonderfully, my student."

The boy only nodded at his teacher. He was disappointed that the fight had not been better. It was over too quickly. He should have given his teacher a better show.

"Even without magic you are a great warrior. Come. Let us return home and eat," the teacher said, extending his hand towards his student. The boy stepped over to the older man and the two apparated away.

-

The young man was sitting at a desk in his room, studying a book on mathematics. His teacher left nothing out of his education. He had studied physics, chemistry, biology, economics, literature and countless other topics in the many years he had known his teacher. His teacher believed that knowledge was the gateway to power, and had taught the young man from a very early age that strength alone meant nothing against knowledge. And even though he was a wizard he still believed muggle knowledge was invaluable.

The young man yawned and leaned back in his chair. He was a good-looking boy, with short black hair and piercing green eyes. His skin was nicely tanned from hours of dueling under the blazing sun. Although he lived deep in the forests of Albania, he and his mentor would often apparate to areas of extreme conditions to duel and train. This training had a very visible effect on the young man. His muscles rippled under his skin with every movement. They were extremely strong; strong enough to allow him to wrestle with werewolves and other magical beasts. They also gave him supreme explosive speed. He had no doubt that his physical perfection was unrivaled by any other wizard in the world; he doubted that even the great Achilles could have matched his physique. It was a great source of pride for the young man, who was not yet even sixteen.

However, the young man's skill in magic surpassed even his excellence in physical capability. He had been training with his mentor for a long time. Ten years in fact. He knew that his mentor had chosen him because of his talent in magic. His mentor was a great and powerful wizard; he was known only as the Warlock, a man whose skill in the Dark Arts of Magic was truly complete. Apparently, he had been a wizard of great renown; that is, until he realized the limits of Arcane wizard magic. He had then delved into the deep and powerful forces of Dark Magic, learning of old and mysterious magics that had since been lost from the world. He had then taken on the young man as his apprentice, passing on all his knowledge to the boy. The young man knew he had made his mentor proud. He would admit, however, that much of his success was probably due to the very harsh method by which his mentor taught. Not mastering a technique in the required time often would result in severe punishment. His mentor was a master of the Cruciatus. But the young man did not hold his mentor at fault, for he owed his mentor deeply for the training given to him.

The young man smirked. His mentor had been especially proud after his most recent adventure. The young man knew that he had created a lot of chaos with his slaying of an entire vampire clan; although, they had had it coming. After all these years he had finally gotten his revenge.

And only an action as drastic as that could satisfy the great Emmerich Grindelwald.

-

Two figures stood at opposite ends of a stone chamber. One was an old man, and the other was a teenager. They were both dressed in black robes. They stood, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

A wand suddenly appeared in the teenager's hand, and instantly a bolt of blue light left the wand and headed toward the older man. Right before impact the blue light suddenly reflected and increased in magnitude. Two more spells were added right behind it. The teenager dodged these and shot out a chain of spells while simultaneously levitating himself to avoid the boulder that had been launched at him. The teenager let himself fall to the ground and then rolled to the right as a whip of flame barely missed his head. The teenager slashed his wand and a purple wave of light whipped towards the older man. The older man caught it in midair with his own wand and pulled. The teenager was flung towards the older man, who shot three spells in quick succession to the teenager. The teenager summoned the boulder that had been launched at him earlier to block the path of the spells, and immediately had to conjure a shield to block the fragments of rock that exploded from the impact. A wave of dust followed henceforth and when it cleared the older man had disappeared.

The teenager cast a shielding spell around himself and spun around, looking for the older man. The room was completely silent. He released some magic to sense the room for his mentor. He felt nothing. His mentor must have warded himself against that. Suddenly, the teenager felt the temperature in the room rise. It was getting extremely hot. He was about to cast a cooling charm when he felt something wrap around his ankle and pull from underneath, knocking him down. The teenager saw a cord attached to his ankle. He severed it with a curse from his wand and jumped back to his feet, only to be met with a barrage of spells. He nimbly rolled to the left while simultaneously firing off multiple spells. He then conjured a magnificent serpent and commanded it to bite the other man, but was disappointed to see it cleaved in two not a moment later. After that, he ran towards the older man, dodging spells left and right as he went. As soon as he got into range a bright light escaped from his wand, causing the older man to look away for a second. During that time the teenager decided to forego another spell and kicked the older man in the chest. The older man grunted but recovered quickly. He summoned the younger man to him, sidestepped as the younger man passed him, and then banished the young man into the far wall. The young man, dazed but surprisingly not out, leapt to his feet and conjured a wave of flame and sent it towards the older man. The flame merely passed around the man as water to rock. The older man smirked, only to have the wave of flame suddenly explode behind him, and the force of the explosion launched him towards the younger man, who flicked his wand and conjured a sheet of rock. The younger man smiled as he knew that he had repaid his mentor for the earlier incident, only to look on in shock as his conjuration disappeared and his mentor was calmly approaching him.

"You are doing marvelously, my young student. But you must be more creative than this. Creativity wins duels, not spellwork-"the older man was interrupted as the teenager conjured small metal objects and banished them at the older man with a flick of his wand. The older man merely twisted his own wand and the projectiles disappeared. "That was good, but much too easy to counter. You must use the environment to your advantage. A master duelist is always aware of his surroundings."

With that last statement the teenager noticed a shift in the older man's eyes, and turned just in time to see the rope he had previously severed jump up and snake its way around his body. Immediately after that the little metal projectiles he thought the older man had dematerialized spread like liquid around his body and quickly solidified. While he was distracted by this his wand was summoned from his hand and the duel was over. He had lost.

"Be aware of your surroundings. Always." This was the curt command given to the young man, who merely glared at his mentor in response.

The boy's face then took on a calculating look, and then switched to a smile. "I could perhaps say the same to you," he retorted.

Just then the older man was hit in the back of the knees, knocking him to the ground, and then in the head, by a piece of wood transfigured from the body of the dead snake. When the older man regained his feet, the teenager only smirked at him.

-

Emmerich Grindelwald stood watching his student run through one of his training regimens. Even he, the great and powerful Warlock, would admit that his student had unsurpassed potential. That was part of the reason why he had chosen to take him as a student after all. It had been ten years since he had found the boy, all bloodied and alone, wandering through his forest. Ten years he had spent imparting all his knowledge onto the strong-willed child. Ten years spent in his final plan for victory.

This boy would do what he had not been able to. This boy would realize his ultimate plans for a perfect society. All opposition would be crushed by him, and he would reign as Lord over his dominion for a hundred years!

The boy was his secret weapon, his final creation. Yes, the world would soon know the terror of his son, the great Dieter Grindelwald.

-

Miles away from the home of Grindelwald, a meeting was taking place. Thirteen figures, all dressed in black and with white masks covering their faces were standing in a circle, each standing on thirteen different stones. In the center of the circle were seven trembling and frightened young children. They were each bound to seven rocks, smaller than those the dark figures were standing on, organized concentrically to the thirteen. All twenty rocks were black as night, and had runes of red fire carved in complex patterns. There was a pedestal in the exact center of the circle, and upon the pedestal was an egg.

The dark thirteen began chanting, and a sickening yellow light began to grow around the seven children. Lines of flame spread out from the thirteen surrounding stones, forming a symbol on the ground. The light began to burn away at the children's flesh; the children screamed.

A chilling presence filled their minds and laughed. "It will be over soon."

Each of the surrounding thirteen figures took a stick from their robes and cut open a wrist. The blood dripped down the stones and began to form puddles, and then began moving towards the center until it formed a pool around the egg. The children were replaced by ash, their screams dying away. A great light grew from all the runes, and a strong wind gusted, swirling up all the ashes in a small tornado that surrounded the center pedestal. Suddenly, a great tower of fire erupted over the pedestal.

The thirteen suddenly felt an enormous presence within their minds. It was crushing them, suffocating them with its power.

"You have done well, my faithful Death Eaters."

The fire cleared. A tall and pale form stood atop the pedestal. The thirteen looked on in amazement and adoration at the sight before them.

Lord Voldemort had returned.

-

And there's the second chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.

Yes, I changed Grindelwald's first name. I mean c'mon, Gellert? Sounds more like a dessert than the name of a powerful dark lord.


	3. A Master's Death

"_You have done well, my faithful Death Eaters."_

Dieter, apprentice to the Warlock Grindelwald, woke with a start and hissed as he clamped a hand to his forehead. His old scar was burning fiercely. It had never done that before. It felt like someone was stabbing him with a red-hot knife. He rolled over and vomited off the edge of his bed.

He took a few calming breaths as the pain died down. His gut felt cold, and he shivered. That dream had been so…realistic. He felt like he had been there at the ritual. He could still hear those children's screams…

Dieter felt sick again. Those screams had reminded him too much of his past, with _them_. Dieter shivered again and subconsciously rubbed his left palm. 'That part of my life is over now, I ended it,' he told himself. But still, he could not help the terrible memories.

He knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so he decided to get up and do one of his workouts. On the way to the old dresser containing his clothes, Dieter passed his mirror and paused. His scar was a bright red, and his face was pale, making the scar stand out even more. He didn't even know how he had gotten the scar; he had had it for as long as he could remember. He didn't know why it would hurt after this long, either. He knew that curse scars could have unknown effects, but he could not remember getting hit by any curse dark enough to create a scar, and in the forehead no less. 'Perhaps I should tell my father about it?' Dieter knew that his teacher was not his actual father, but the man had taken him in and cared for him for the past ten years. Well, he wouldn't really call it "caring", but the man had provided him with a home and taught him how to be strong. Dieter would always be grateful for that; regardless of the horrors he had put him through.

The Warlock had also granted him the name Dieter. _They_ had never given him one, and apparently his mother had never given him one either before she died; a least, according to _them._

'Stop thinking about them,' he chastised himself. 'I ended their miserable lives; I showed them what it means to be _powerful_. They won't control me again, I made sure of that.' Dieter smiled to himself. Yes, he had had fun standing over their burning corpses, watching as the few still alive looked on in devastation at the destruction he had created.

And now, feeling much better, Dieter finished getting dressed and disapparated.

He appeared instantly hundreds of miles away in the deserts of Egypt. He knew that most wizards could not even dream of being able to apparate across such distances, but it was one of the benefits to being the apprentice of the Warlock; the Warlock's knowledge knew no limits.

The desert was one of his favorite training spots. The lack of water, the extreme heat, the dry air, the sandstorms, the dangerous desert creatures; it all tested his wit and endurance, especially when trying to concentrate on his training. He loved to do battle with the forces of nature.

And so Dieter found a particularly hot and uncomfortable place and commenced his grueling training session.

-

When Dieter finally returned back to the Warlock's home after his long and tiring workout, he only wanted to shower and then sleep. But that was not to be, for as soon as he entered his room he was grabbed roughly around the neck and felt a wand press into his back.

"I could have taken your life just now. Pathetic. I thought I taught you better than to let your defenses down?" The Warlock snarled at him. His red eyes simmered with disappointment. Without wasting a second Dieter slammed the back of his head into the Warlock's face, loosening the grip the Warlock had on him, brought his elbow up into his chin, and then twisted around, striking the Warlock in the face once again with his elbow. It happened in a blink of the eye.

The Warlock, unharmed, gave Dieter a curt nod. "Good, you are not as big a waste of flesh as I thought. Now, accompany me to the dueling room. There is more for you to learn."

Dieter nodded and followed him swiftly. It would not do to make the Warlock wait.

-

Hogwarts was a truly remarkable place. No matter who you were, you always felt good while at Hogwarts. And even Albus Dumbledore, who had spent more time in Hogwarts than he cared to account for, was always amazed whenever he looked upon the beloved school. It had come time for him to return to the school, in order to prepare for the upcoming school year. While Albus didn't mind a little time to relax at home, he knew that Hogwarts would always be where he truly belonged. And so he there he was, walking up the path from Hogsmeade, gazing upon his school with loving eyes.

He entered the school while marveling at its beauty, traversed the corridors leading to his office, set a new password for the year (he greatly enjoyed Sweet Tarts, as it were) and stepped onto the staircase. He noted with some interest a strange whirring noise as he neared his office. 'Fawkes must have already arrived,' he thought, 'no doubt he is trying to find some owl treats. I must remember to get him more of those.'

Dumbledore reached the top of the stairs, and opened the door to his office. The whirring became much louder now that the door wasn't muffling the sound. Dumbledore headed over to the source of the noise. It was a small silver instrument; there were three small metallic plates balanced on top of a short silver pin. However, the plates were spinning rapidly, and were dangerously close to falling off the pin. Dumbledore looked on in horror as he remembered the purpose of the instrument. It measured the balance of the magical energies around the planet. The last time he had seen the instrument active, a very powerful and very dangerous Dark Lord had just committed one of his most heinous acts. And even then, the plates had only been spinning rapidly. If they were close to falling off, it meant that something must have happened; something gravely _unnatural_ must have upset the balance of the magical energies. Dumbledore could only come to one conclusion: Voldemort must have returned. Dumbledore had begun to think that Voldemort might not be able to return, but today he knew he was proved wrong. Only the dead coming back to life could have so severely upset the balance. And Dumbledore knew that Voldemort would return. Voldemort was too strong to stay dead.

But he needed to be sure. He rushed over to his fireplace, ignited it with a flick of his wand, and threw a pinch of floo powder into it. "Snape Estate!" he yelled into the flames.

"Severus!" he called out from the flames. A few moments later the potions master appeared in his line of sight. His face was pale (paler than usual) and he looked ill.

"Is it true?" The headmaster asked him. Snape could only nod.

-

Dieter growled as he made his way back to his room. The Warlock had decided to do a little…experimenting during the last session. He had raised twelve inferi and then dueled with Dieter. At first Dieter thought it was going to be easy, since fire disposed of inferi with little difficulty. The Warlock, knowing this, commanded Dieter to not use fire against the inferi and only other spells. This made it nearly impossible, as inferi were highly resistant to magic. The Warlock's participation in the duel didn't make it any easier.

And so Dieter was left to tending his wounds in his room. One of the inferi had given him a nice gash on the arm. It was bleeding rather profusely. His body also ached from the few Cruciatus curses he had been unable to avoid. He quickly healed the gash and pulled a pain-relief potion from a cabinet in the corner of his room. He hated the taste of pain-relief.

The Warlock hadn't come out of the duel unharmed either, though. Dieter had still been able to get the better of the Warlock. He had been experimenting on his own as well, and had a few surprises of his own for his mentor. He still hadn't shown him his greatest discovery, though.

Dieter looked down at his right hand. A golden light appeared there, like a flame. This was the discovery he had withheld from his teacher, and this was the magic he had been practicing in his free time. In all his research he had never heard of this kind of magic before. This magic was not contained in a spell, nor could a wand use it. It was a part of him, and he could feel it flowing freely through his body.

But he had been unable to make the light progress past his hands. It was too strong for that. Every time he tried to force it out, the gentle flow would start to become stronger. It would then become a flood of power. Dieter had never allowed himself to pass that part.

He sat down at his desk and opened his notebook. In it were notes on the different forms of magic:

_Dark Magic exists only to cause harm; it has no other uses. Dark Magic is considered the strongest of the branches of magic because of its sheer destructive power. Dark Magic is addictive, and many who rely on its use drown in its power. The use of Dark Magic is illegal in most countries and those who use it are known as Dark Wizards. Dark Wizards of Renown are Amun the Wise of Egypt (considered by many to be the father of the Dark Arts), Balthazar the Untamed, the Dark Witch Cassandra, Salazar Slytherin, Emmerich Grindelwald, and Lord Voldemort. _

_Arcane Magic is the magic of Wizards. Only Wizards have the ability to wield Arcane Magic. Some scholars believe that Arcane Magic is unnatural and artificial, and thus only a power Wizards can use. Sub-magics of the Arcane include Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, and Arithmancy. Famous masters of the Arcane include Archimedes of Greece, Merlin (supposedly the greatest Wizard to ever exist), and Albus Dumbledore (Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamot)._

_Natural Magic is the magic of the universe. Magical beasts and other sentient, magic-capable organisms (Goblins) use the Natural Magics. No Wizards are known for using Natural Magic extensively. However, it is rumored that the Goblin King Ironskull (ruler of the Goblin Undercity from 1312 – 1365) was a master of Natural Magic. Only known Wizard applications of Natural Magic are potionmaking and the Animagus transformation, and in rare cases, Elementalism._

Dieter finished reading his notes. The Warlock had taught him all about the Dark and Arcane Arts of Magic. Dieter now wanted to learn how to use Natural Magic. The only Natural magic he had studied was potions. 'It would be cool to be an Animagus or an Elemental,' he thought. Although, it would not matter; he was strong enough without the two gifts.

A knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Dieter called out to his mentor. The Warlock opened the door and entered the room. His red eyes were fixed on his young apprentice.

"There is a matter I wish to discuss with you."

-

"Dad! Hey Dad can we go to Diagon Alley today? Pleeease?"

The Potter household was full of activity. James Potter's son Matthew was bouncing happily up and down. The Hogwarts letters had come, and Matthew was going to be a first year. James could understand his excitement. Hogwarts was an amazing place. He could still remember his first year vividly. 'Ah, I caused so much trouble back then,' James smiled at the memory. 'I think Sirius and I still hold the record for most detentions, too.'

"Dad? Diagon Alley? Please?" His son was oozing excitement.

"Well uh…" James hesitated in answering his son. He knew that they needed to go soon, to get supplies for the upcoming school year, but he did not want to go to a potential target. For the first time in thirteen years, he had felt his Order of the Phoenix card warm up. Needless to say, he had been startled.

He and Lily had been summoned to the first Order meeting in thirteen years, and the topic of discussion had not relieved James' fears.

When the last of the members had finally arrived, Dumbledore had stood up, and calmly stated, "Voldemort has returned."

James remembered the silence that had followed that statement. Everyone had merely stared at Dumbledore in disbelief. Finally, the reality had sunk in and several of the members had jumped to their feet, shouting "You can't be serious!" or "It's not possible!" But Snape confirmed that Voldemort was back by pulling up his sleeve and showing them the Dark Mark. It was a deep red. Snape explained that after Voldemort's defeat his mark had all but vanished, but for the last year or so it had steadily become darker. And then, he had been surprised when it had burned black for the first time in nearly fifteen years.

And so James was being extra careful. But he had to admit that his children did need their school supplies. Dumbledore had decided that he would not let on to anyone that he knew Voldemort was back, as he knew that no one would even believe him anyways. Who would give up the peace they had had for nearly fifteen years?

"Dad!" James was interrupted from his thoughts by his son. He was clearly awaiting an answer.

"Go ask your mother," James said. He had learned long ago that if you don't want to decide, have the wife decide for you.

A few minutes later Matthew came rushing back into the room. "Mom says we can!" He told James excitedly. James sighed.

"Ok Matthew. Go tell your sister to get ready. I'll call Sirius and see if he wants us to take Anna." Matthew immediately rushed from the room and went upstairs to tell his sister.

-

Lord Voldemort strode calmly through the forests of Albania. Some would be afraid of the monsters that lurked there, but Voldemort was not. Voldemort knew that he was the most dangerous creature in the forest. Nothing could harm him.

Voldemort had sensed the strong use of Dark Magic in this part of the forest, and was intrigued. There was someone out here…someone who could be a valuable ally. Perhaps they would wish to join him. And if they didn't…he would show them the power of Lord Voldemort.

The Dark Lord soon came upon a small house deep into the forest. 'Now how to get their attention?' he wondered. His question was answered as the door to the home opened, and an old man cloaked in black stepped out. The man walked towards Voldemort calmly, and stopped a few feet in front of him.

"What business do you have in my lands, Voldemort?" the Warlock asked.

"I have come to offer you a chance to join me and my group of Death Eaters. I sensed your presence and your skill in Dark Magic. I confess myself impressed. I await your answer." Voldemort looked directly into a pair of eyes similar to his own. He knew what the answer was going to be, before the man gave it.

"No."

"Then you must realize that I will kill you."

"You think I am afraid? It is not I who will die here tonight; it is you, my old friend." The Warlock lowered his hood, revealing his face. Voldemort laughed.

"I have not seen you for some time, my old teacher. Last time I saw you, you were at the height of your power. You have fallen quite far. Let us duel, old man, and determine who the better wizard is."

-

Dieter was sitting alone, meditating in the harsh climate of Antarctica. The cold wind bit at his body, but Dieter did not show any signs of discomfort. He was working on controlling his gold power, and the harsh climate of Antarctica was a perfect place to improve his concentration.

He felt his hands warm up as the gold power ignited around them. The power was flowing gently through his body, keeping him warm. Now, all he had to do was release the power. He tried to push the power gently outwards, but was met with resistance. He applied more force, but once again the gentle flow started to become stronger. He felt the gentle warmth inside his body start to become hot, but still he pushed. The heat was becoming unbearable, like liquid flame burning him from the inside out…he needed to stop it before it killed him….A vision suddenly entered his mind.

_A gold beast in the sky, looking like a second sun…a loud and triumphant roar…_

_Two men dueling…their skill was unbeatable. They dodged and cast spells faster than the normal eye could see. The forest they were dueling in lay burning and destroyed. A stone cottage was shattered. Suddenly, a green light flashed and one of the duelists fell, never to get back up._

_An image of a skull with a snake coming out its mouth appeared in the air._

The vision suddenly ended as the most terrible pain he had ever felt stabbed at his scar. The golden power and the heat faded as the pain intensified. Dieter grabbed his head in his hands and had to hold in a scream. He felt sick…he felt like he was going to die….

Suddenly, the pain stopped. It was replaced by the most uneasy feeling Dieter had ever had. Something had gone wrong, and it was related to his scar. Something had happened…back home.

Dieter stood up but swayed uneasily. He felt absolutely terrible. But he needed to get back home. He disapparated…

…and was horrified at the sight before him. His house was crumbled and the surrounding forest was on fire. Everything had a greenish tint, and Dieter soon learned why. There was an image in the air above the ruined house of a skull with a serpent coming out of its mouth. His scar stung as he looked upon it. 'The vision…this can't be possible!'

Dieter scanned the area again, and almost fell to his knees when he saw a body on the ground. He rushed over to it, hoping that it was not who he thought it was. His fears were confirmed, when he rolled the body over and looked upon the face of his teacher of ten years. 'No,' he thought, 'this can't be possible. The Warlock can't be killed. He is too powerful, too strong. He was like a father to me…'

"WHO DID THIS?" He shouted into the darkness. He felt the golden power return, stronger than when he was in Antarctica. He felt the desire to hurt something, to kill anything he could find. He looked around furiously for something to destroy. His eyes rested on the sickly green symbol. With a roar of fury released the power from his hand and it shot towards the symbol. The golden fire hit it and destroyed it, wiping its existence away. But Dieter's anger was not sated, and the gold power was raging through him. He unleashed his power upon the forest, so that it too would know the pain he was feeling. All the animals in the forest learned to stay away from the young man, if they did not wish to suffer a particularly painful death.

Had he been able to see himself, he would have noticed a faint gold outline surrounding him, and two golden lights where his eyes should have been.

-

James sat down on his couch with a sigh of relief. He was finally home! The trip to Diagon Alley had gone well; his kids were now all ready to go to Hogwarts.

James had to admit that he had had a little bit of fun while he was there. Sirius and his family had come with them. Sirius's daughter, Anna, was the same age as his daughter, Violet. The two were Gryffindor housemates. Amy, Sirius' wife, was a muggle-born witch. The two had been married a few months before Harry had been born. Sirius worked with James as an Auror and Amy worked in the muggle world.

Later on in the day, the James had run into one of his fellow Aurors, Frank Longbottom, and his family while there. Frank's eldest son Neville was the same age as Harry would have been, and one year ahead of Violet and Anna. The three families had done their shopping together, and James had noticed a little bit of flirting going on between Neville and Violet. But James didn't mind, as Neville was a good kid: a popular Gryffindor, son of an Auror, and a generally likeable young man.

Matthew had hit it off with Frank's youngest son, Eric, who was entering his third year at Hogwarts. The young man seemed to have taken Matthew under his wing and started to tell Matthew all about Hogwarts. Matthew was even more eager to attend after talking to Eric.

Lily had, of course, gone off to gossip with Alice and Amy. Lily and Alice had been friends at Hogwarts and had lived in the same dorm for seven years. Amy had been a year below them and in Ravenclaw.

James couldn't help but feel a little jealous when Frank put his hand on Neville's shoulder. James remembered when Dumbledore had told them about the prophecy. Neville had been a possible candidate. But instead, Voldemort had come after his family, and killed his son. Harry was his first child, his firstborn son. But James would not wish for Frank to suffer as he had, or for Neville to die. It was good that Frank got to keep his son.

Finally, the three families parted ways, and said their goodbyes. James gathered his family up and led them to the floo in the Leaky Cauldron. He had noticed that all of them wore smiles on their faces. He seemed to be the only one that had darker thoughts in his head. 'It is better that way though,' he thought, 'they don't need to suffer these depressing thoughts.' James shook his head in an attempt to purge the thoughts.

James ended his reminiscing when his wife came and sat down on his lap. She gave him a deep kiss and then looked into his eyes.

"You seem a little down," she noted. James smiled but it did not reach his eyes.

"Yeah…I was just thinking," he replied. Lily looked at him with interest.

"About what?" she prodded, giving him another kiss. James relished in the warmth of his wife.

"About…Harry. Neville is the same age Harry would have been. I guess it just, you know, made me a little jealous," James answered truthfully. Lily looked at him with sadness in her eyes.

"I know, James, I know. I miss him too, so much. He'd be entering his sixth year. Merlin knows how much trouble he would get in to, with you as his father," she said, smiling. "He definitely would have been a charmer." Lily's eyes filled with tears as she thought about the future her son would never have.

James remained silent, and wrapped his arms around his wife, holding her tightly. He could not help as tears spilled from his eyes, too. Just as he got comfortable, a soft beeping came from his pocket. James gave a growl of frustration: it was his Auror insignia; he was being called in. He had forgotten that he was on call. James stayed where he was for a few moments, then kissed his wife and left.

-

And there is chapter 3! May it satisfy your wants for entertainment.

If you could let me know how I'm doing, that would be wonderful. I'd like to know if people even like this story.


	4. The Castle

The forest, what remained of it, was dark and dreary--the trees had long burned to the ground and the grass and undergrowth was gone, leaving only a charred and desolate earth—save for the red-orange hue of a controlled fire near the remains of a stone cottage.

Dieter stood next to the funeral pyre he had built, gazing into the flames. He had decided to burn the body of the Warlock as the great wizards of old had done. The fire burned bright and crackled happily, easily sated by the flesh of the Warlock, contrasting greatly with the mood of both the forest and Dieter. Dieter could not stop the thoughts that flooded his head. His mentor was now gone; the man who had taught him to be a wizard was slowly burning away in front of him. In all honesty, Dieter didn't know what to do. His anger had hollowed out with his destruction of the forest, along with all irrational ideas of charging into battle against his mentor's slayer. He knew he would do it eventually. He was honor bound to avenge his mentor. The man had saved his life ten years ago, and thus Dieter owed him a life debt. And since he had failed to protect his mentor from his killer, Dieter could only fulfill his life debt if he avenged his mentor's death.

But Dieter did not only want to kill him to fulfill the life debt, but to avenge a fallen father. Even though the Warlock had tortured him, degraded him, pushed him to his limits, and overall been an asshole, Dieter still had cared for him. And so, he would hunt down this wizard who had killed his master, and kill him.

But not yet. A wizard with the power to kill his mentor would have to be extremely strong, and Dieter didn't know if he could beat him. Dieter knew he was stronger than his deceased teacher—that was why the Warlock had even bothered to teach him--but he knew nothing about this mysterious wizard. Therefore, Dieter would have to find him and watch him, and figure out his weaknesses.

A sudden pulsing caught Dieter's attention. There was no sight or sound, only a feeling. Dieter turned away from the fire and walked over to the ruins of his old home. The pulsing grew stronger, coming from somewhere among the ruins. He walked among the debris until he came to where the pulsing felt strongest. Some magical thing was lost among the debris. With a wave of his wand Dieter lifted the stone and rubble, searching for what was causing the pulsing. He shifted through the remains of plaster and wood until he came to a small box. He picked it up and examined it closely. It was warm. He opened the box up and found a ring: a silver hoop covered with what looked like diamonds. The ring shrank in Dieter's hand. Dieter looked at it and, throwing caution to the wind, slipped it onto his right index finder, and felt a tug behind his navel and the world swirl around him as he disappeared.

When the world stopped spinning around him Dieter found himself in a large, circular room. 'What the hell,' he thought to himself. He looked down at the ring on his finger, and noticed it slightly glowing. The ring had been a portkey. 'But to where?' he asked himself.

Behind him there were large double doors. The floor and surrounding wall were made of stone. There was barely any light in the room. In front of him there looked to be a doorway that led off into the darkness. Getting out his wand, Dieter lit it up and started walking across the room. The room was very cold.

Through the doorway there was a massive chamber. Dieter could not see how large it was but when he entered the chamber his footsteps echoed loudly. Dieter walked further into the chamber. There were two curved staircases, one on each side of the room and symmetrical to each other. Dieter ignored these and continued on through the chamber, keeping a firm grip on his wand. Everything was silent except for his footsteps, which echoed creepily off the walls of the seemingly empty chamber. Dieter increased the light given off by his wand, fully illuminating the chamber. In the middle of the chamber there was a long table. Beyond the table, at the end of the hall, there were two doorways on each side of a large hearth. With a flick of his wand Dieter ignited the wood in the hearth. The hall was instantly filled with a little more warmth. Dieter then noticed a series of torches on the walls of the chamber, and ignited those too, making the chamber a lot less gloomy.

For the next couple of hours Dieter explored the castle (he assumed it was castle, judging by its size). He started on the ground floor and then explored the dungeons. The place was massive. He left little balls of light in the air, marking where he had come from to prevent getting lost. In the dungeons, he had come across several things. First was a huge potions lab. Dieter was excited about this, as the lab was equipped with rather expensive-looking, although a little dusty, equipment that would be perfect for some novel experiments. Second was a dueling chamber the likes of which he had never seen before. It was colossal. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of a type of granite that was laced with ambient magic, making it nigh indestructible and perfect for harsh duels.

The most surprising discovery though had been a huge chamber at the very bottom of the castle foundations. Dieter would not have found it, if the ring on his finger had not shown him where to go. He had been exploring several of the rooms when he noticed a strong magic surrounding a small hole in one of the walls. He had walked over to it when his ring started vibrating madly. The vibration got stronger as he got closer to the hole. The hole was a little larger than his finger, and he surmised that he needed to put the finger with the ring in the hole when it began to glow. He did so and felt a warm tingling, and then a sharp pain as the tip of his finger was locked into place and pricked. There was a bright flash of light and his finger was released. The wall next to the hole disappeared and Dieter had gone down the steps that had appeared. Dieter could feel powerful wards and other magics examining him as he descended. At the bottom of the steps there was a flat landing that led to a large metal door. Standing in front of the gate were two large statues. However, something felt a little off to him. There was magic surrounding them. Stepping closer, he examined them. The statues were of manticores, and were very detailed and intricate. Dieter praised the artisan who constructed such works of art. The level of detail made the statues appear to be alert and vigilant sentinels.

He passed by the statues and stopped in front of the gate. As he was examining it, he heard a soft sound from behind him. He quickly spun around to see a large scorpion tail heading at his face. He dodged the tail and brought out his wand, leveling it at the faces of the statue-creatures. A little bit of light from the room reflected off the ring on his finger, and the two statues noticed it. Suddenly, they stopped their assault and lowered themselves into deep bows, before climbing back up onto their pedestals and returning to statue form.

"Ok then," Dieter said to himself. That had been odd. But he turned his focus away from the two sentinel statues and brought it upon the metal gate. Obviously, there was something of value hidden behind the gate. Why else would there have been two magically animated constructs ready to attack him? Had it not been for the ring, they would not have stopped.

Dieter's attention was drawn to a small groove in the door. The groove was semicircular and a couple centimeters long. The ring once again started vibrating madly. He stroked his finger across the groove, noticing that the ring fit perfectly, and noticed several clicks and clangs coming from the other side of the door. A few moments later, the door was open and Dieter was faced with a dark chamber. Upon entering the chamber, torches on the walls were lit and the contents of the room illuminated. A majority of the chamber was covered with stacked crates. They were each about a little over a meter long, a meter wide, and half a meter tall.

Dieter stepped over to the nearest crate, evaluated it for any latent curses or other such magics, and after noticing none opened it. The crate was completely filled with gold coins. He went to another crate and checked it. It too was filled with gold coins. Dieter looked on in shock. The chamber had hundreds if not thousands of crates in it. And if each was filled with that much gold…

"Holy shit," was all Dieter could say. Whoever owned this place (he was getting the feeling that it was he) was wealthy beyond measure. But how had the previous owner become so rich? Dieter sat down on top of one of the crates and began to think. He had found the ring in the Warlock's home, so perhaps the Warlock had been the owner? But if the Warlock—Grindelwald—had been the owner, why had he lived in such a shitty little shack? The man owned a castle. Why had he raised Dieter in the middle of nowhere when he could have raised him in the massive castle? There were a lot of questions that Dieter wanted answered, but he knew they would not be since the man who would know them was now dead.

He looked at the ring again. The light from the torches was making the diamonds have a soft orange glow. He slid the ring off his finger and examined it more closely. Had this ring belonged to the Warlock? He noticed no signs of ownership on the ring. It was unlikely that it would not. Perhaps that information was hidden? Clenching the ring in he willed it to reveal its secrets. He felt the ring grow slightly warm. He examined the ring again, and noticed something. On the inside of the band was a small inscription: _Forever in Strength is Grindelwald_. It was written in German, but Dieter was gifted when it came to languages. He intuitively understood different languages. It was a gift his mentor had been most pleased to discover.

"So all of this is my mentor's property, then," Dieter said to himself. "Which in turn would make it mine, judging by the reaction of this ring." Damn. He needed a drink.

-

Voldemort smiled gently as he leisurely traipsed through the ancient corridors of Slytherin's Fortress. Salazar Slytherin had personally designed the place, and had overseen its construction. The entire construction was surrounded by a wall ten meters high, and three meters thick. The fortress itself was a beautiful castle. The beauty was magnified by the intimidating battlements and most of all, the terrifying central tower. It was unbelievably tall and had been given the nickname Slytherin's Eye.

Salazar Slytherin was a great and powerful wizard. Terrifyingly powerful, even. Lord Voldemort was pleased that he had come from such a distinguished and strong bloodline. However, Lord Voldemort knew he had transcended even the infamous Salazar Slytherin's power.

The last fifteen years had taught him much. He had made a mistake that day, attacking the Potters. He had miscalculated. But no magic would ever be able to stop him again. His time as a spirit had given him great insight. He had learned things that none had learned before; things that would destroy a weaker man.

The second rising of Voldemort would come swift, and Lord Voldemort would destroy all competition. He had the power to do so now. None would challenge the rule of Voldemort!

He would make his first move soon. The Wizarding world would be shocked to see him, alive and stronger than ever before. And with the prophecy voided, there was no one able to stop him. The Potter boy was no longer alive, and thus the prophecy no longer applied. Everything was perfect.

Voldemort laughed.

-

Dieter downed another glass of firewhiskey. The liquid burned at his throat but became a soft warmness that settled in his stomach. The burning helped to clear his thoughts.

Currently Dieter was sitting in a bar in Athens, Greece. It mainly served customers of a shadier sort. He had altered parts of his body to give himself a more mature look, though he doubted the bartender would have cared. The man only had a permanent angry look on his face. Dieter knew that the man only cared about money, and as long as he was paid for the drinks he'd leave a customer alone.

Dieter gave a quick and discrete check of the room, checking for any possible danger. It was a habit the Warlock had forced upon him. "Be alert or be dead!" was one of his favorite phrases.

His check found nothing of any danger. The bar was empty save for a couple hags and a werewolf. Briefly Dieter pondered insulting the werewolf and starting a fight. He could do with a little exercise. Hurting something was pretty appealing. He finally decided against it, after noticing the man was rather scrawny and would not put up much of a fight. Dieter was disappointed. He turned back to the bartender and ordered another drink.

As Dieter was concentrating on his beverage, the door to the bar opened and three cloaked figures entered. They looked around for a bit and then walked over to the bartender. They ordered drinks and sat in the stools in front of the counter.

Dieter was instantly on alert. He had noticed them enter, but had not caught their scent until they sat down at the bar. He would recognize that smell anywhere. The three cloaked persons were vampires. Dieter made sure to keep his face impassive.

One of the cloaked figures turned and looked at him, and didn't look away. Dieter discretely drew his wand and was ready. He could tell they were after him. No doubt because of his recent escapades.

The vampire that had been looking at him suddenly stood up and walked closer to Dieter. The two others came around his sides. The lead vampire leaned down towards Dieter and whispered in his ear.

"I am going to rip out your insides and bleed you dry, little slave."

Dieter smirked. This was going to be fun.

Quick as a flash he knocked his head into the vampire's, and then spun around on the stool and kicked the vampire in the chest. The vampire was launched backwards. The two other vampires sprung into action: one tried grabbing him and the other drew a dagger and brought it down at him with inhuman speed. Dieter let the first vampire grip on to him, and then flung him around into the path of the dagger. The dagger plunged into the flesh of the first vampire and the vampire screamed in pain. Dieter grabbed the second vampire's hand and pushed it hard, creating a deep wound in the first vampire. The vampire leader, after having recovered, drew another dagger and brought himself into the fight. Dieter tore the dagger from the second vampire's hand and dodged the blade of the leader. Dieter caught the arm and gripped it tightly. He brought his dagger up and cut off the hand of the vampire leader. After that he delivered a powerful elbow into the throat of the detained leader, crushing it and silencing the vampire's scream. He then took the dagger and stabbed it into the face of second vampire. By this time the first vampire had overcome his wound and thrust his fist out to knock him across the face, but Dieter merely caught it with his palm. The vampire pushed with all his strength but was surprised when could not make Dieter's hand move. No matter how strong or fast the vampires were they were no where near his own strength. Dieter chuckled at how foolish these vampires were to attack him. And to think he had not even used magic…well, he supposed he could remedy that. He brought his other hand up and released a bolt of fire at the vampire who tried to punch him. Instantly the vampire was engulfed in flames and started screaming in pain. Before the other two vampires could move Dieter had done the same to them. Dieter only laughed as the vampires became a pile of ash in a matter of seconds.

"I think not, vampire." Dieter smirked at the pile of ash at his feet. What a pity. At least he had gotten some exercise. A small noise gathered his attention. The bartender had dropped a glass and the patrons were looking at him with more than a little fear.

"Sorry about the mess," he said to the bartender as he tossed him a couple galleons. Still smiling, he took one last swig of his drink and exited the bar.

-

Number 12 Grimmauld place was awash with activity as the Order of the Phoenix conducted one of its meetings. Sirius Black had decided to let the Order use his old family home as a headquarters. Sirius loved the idea of a light-sided organization using his dark family's ancestral home. It was like a wonderful slap in the face for them.

James Potter was sitting next to his wife Lily, pinching the bridge of his nose to help stave off an impeding headache. Already he was getting tired of these meetings. He had had enough of them during Voldemort's first reign as a Dark Lord, and was not excited about a likely second one. He just wanted to go home and spend as much time as possible with his children before they went off to Hogwarts for the school year.

"… and Voldemort has not called for his Death Eaters since the first time the Mark burned. I do not know why this is, but the Dark Lord never does anything without a specific and well calculated reason." And James was especially getting tired of hearing Snape talk.

Finally the meeting was concluded, and James saw a chance to ask Dumbledore a question that had been plaguing his mind for a while. He told Lily to go home without him. She looked at him curiously but did so. Dumbledore saw him approaching and gave him a small smile.

"You looked rather bored this evening, James. I daresay I haven't seen you like that since you were a student in History of Magic!" He gave a small laugh.

James wasn't really in the mood to laugh. He just wanted to ask this question and leave. "Albus, since Voldemort never truly died, and was able to return, is there a possibility that Harry might not have died as well? There never was a body, and the Killing Curse normally leaves a corpse."

Dumbledore was deeply saddened by James' hopeful gaze. He really did not want to encourage that hope, knowing that Harry was most certainly dead. It would be devastating for James to think that Harry might have lived, only to some day find true proof of his undeniable death. Dumbledore placed his hand on James' shoulder in a comforting way, and James noticed that Dumbledore looked much older than normal. "I'm afraid to say, James, that Harry could not have survived his encounter with Voldemort. Voldemort has delved into deep and unforgiving magics that protected him from death. Harry did not have such protection. I am sorry, my friend, but your son has passed on. If there is any advice I have to offer, it is to remember him, but remember also to live your life, and cherish the lives of your other children." Dumbledore squeezed James shoulder gently, and then left.

James stood where he was for a couple minutes, repeating what Dumbledore said in his mind. James' hope had been crushed. James felt a tear run down his cheek. If there was one wish he could have, one thing he could ask for, it would be to see his son again. His son that was never able to grow up. An undeniable hatred swelled up in him. If it had not been for Voldemort his son would be living happily with his parents and two younger siblings. If it had not been for Peter, James' own FRIEND, Harry would be dating girls and getting into trouble and James would be teaching him the finer points of Quidditch and mischief-making. James hated them both: Voldemort the Murderer, and Pettigrew the Betrayer. If he ever got his hands on either of them, he would crush their life out. The air crackled around him with an electrical charge as James let his hatred overwhelm him.

-

Sirius Black was out saying goodbye to everyone when suddenly he felt his skin tingle. Someone was doing some powerful uncontrolled magic, and he had a feeling who might responsible. When he finally discovered James, he was proven correct. Sirius knew his friend had been a little short on the temper recently, and he could understand why. Sirius in fact felt the same way.

He gave his best friend a comforting hug. "It's all right Prongs, it's ok."

"I hate them Padfoot! If I ever see either of them again, I'll kill them!"

Sirius knew who the "two" were. He hated them too. They were both spineless bastards who had taken the life of his friend's son, and his own godson, because of some bullshit prophecy.

James finally calmed down and apologized for his outburst. Sirius just waved it off and told him to go spend some time with his wife and children. James gave Sirius a slight smile of appreciation, and left.

They were brothers: true brothers, in everything but blood. Sirius would always be there for his brother, his best friend, and James would do the same.

-

Dieter was calmly strolling down the streets of Athens, whistling a tune. The fight with the vampires had put him in a good mood. He had needed to vent some frustration, and they were the perfect outlet.

He had decided to do some sightseeing in Athens. Now that he was no longer forced to train all day, he could enjoy life a little. So he continued to wander the magnificent city, clearly noticing the presence of wizards and wizarding shops among the muggles. If Dieter had to pick, he would say that he enjoyed the muggle world more than the wizard one. Muggles were so much more ingenious than wizards; they actually put their minds to use. Most wizards were loony and borderline psychotic. Though this allowed for a substantial capacity for creativity, most wizards had neither the will nor the focus to pursue it. Wizards had grown quite lax because of how easy it made life.

Dieter eventually stumbled upon the Wizard's Library of Athens. It was a magnificently large building of immaculate white marble, surrounding by large Corinthian columns. Dieter knew that it was one of the largest wizard libraries in the world, and housed millions of assorted texts and manuscripts. There was only one other library that was larger than it, and that was the Library of Alexandria (Dieter had half a mind to go there instead, as it was supposed to be fascinating beyond comprehension). However, the Wizard's Library would still be interesting.

He entered the building and was immediately greeted by a large statue. A plaque mentioned that the statue was of Athena, a marvelously brilliant witch (and also an apparent goddess to the muggles because of her powers, which she did not hide) of ancient times who commissioned the construction of the Library. Dieter gave the statue a final appreciative gaze and moved on.

Beyond the statue were enormous bookcases, each filled with thousands of tomes, with hundreds of wizards and witches climbing up and down them looking for books. Dieter marveled at the site. He meandered through the shelves for hours, collecting various interesting grimoires and tomes. He found an empty table and sat down to read. He skimmed through a couple; namely the ones on spellwork and magic theory (he scoffed at the authors' very basic and primitive understandings of magic) but quickly grew weary of those. He moved onto another one, **A History of Dark Wizards** (he had picked this tome up to do some research on the owner of the skull symbol that had been floating above his ruined home, as he knew the caster would have to be well versed in the Dark Arts) and found that book to be far more fascinating. Eventually, he found an illustration that fit the symbol. The caption beneath the image read:

_This is the Dark Mark of the Dark Lord Voldemort. During his reign as the chief practitioner of Dark Magic in Europe, this symbol was associated with fear and death. Voldemort and his followers—the Death Eaters—cast this mark after committing a murder. This Mark created uncontrollable fear, as no one ever survived facing Voldemort (one exception, see pg. 1066)_.

Intrigued, Dieter flipped to the aforementioned page. The entry read:

_The Dark Lord Voldemort, better known as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was a self-proclaimed Dark Lord of Europe from 1959 to 1981. His true name was never discovered, though he did declare himself a descendant of the Hogwarts Founder Salazar Slytherin. This was never verified, as no known records of Slytherin's bloodline exist._

_Voldemort was extremely gifted in the arts of magic. He was often regarded as one of the greatest sorcerers of the age, second perhaps only to Albus Dumbledore (his eventual defeater in 1981). His skill in sorcery drove many people to fear him, so much so that eventually the populace dared not speak his name. It was said that whoever Voldemort wanted dead, died._

_His skill at dueling was unparalleled. Out of the hundreds of duels he encountered, he only ever suffered one defeat—his final at the hands of Albus Dumbledore. Many powerful wizards and witches from all over the world challenged him, but all were defeated and killed by his ruthless spellwork._

_Voldemort was also a brilliant strategist. His genius intellect and his ability to think on his feet allowed him to plan and execute raids with merciless efficiency. He was able to hold off large-scale attacks using only his small group of followers. The most famous incidence of this was the London Massacre. Voldemort and ten of his followers attacked the metropolitan area of London, killing near 176 muggles and 32 Aurors without a single casualty._

_Interrogations by Death Eaters caught during the Great Arrests have revealed that Voldemort would often use his skill at Legilimency and the Imperious Curse to control and coordinate the minds of his Death Eaters._

_His charisma was astounding. In the earlier days of his reign, he would often give fiery speeches and dramatic displays to attract followers. He promised power, prestige, and wealth, and delivered. It is believed that Voldemort had control of many Wizarding businesses, and amassed a great wealth which he used to fund his campaign._

_The power of Voldemort was extended by the strength of his followers. The Inner Circle of Death Eaters was constituted by very powerful witches and wizards who were often sadistic and as ruthless as Voldemort himself. The Inner Circle was completely faithful to Voldemort, and put their powers at his command. Many of these Death Eaters are currently located in the island prison of Azkaban, where they serve life sentences for their crimes._

_Voldemort was defeated in 1981 by Albus Dumbledore (defeater of previous Dark Lord Emmerich Grindelwald 1945, see pg. 1017). Voldemort had decided to personally execute an Auror and his family— the Potters— but was caught by Dumbledore and killed in the succeeding duel. Unfortunately, the Potters' young son Harry was killed by Voldemort before his demise._

Dieter finished reading and sat back in his chair with a sigh. So his master's killer was somehow related to this Voldemort. It counted be Voldemort, as he was apparently dead. But wait…he had had that nightmare…about a ceremony. A ceremony of sacrificed children and cloaked figures, blood and flame. Could this Voldemort have found a way to return to life?

"That's not possible," Dieter whispered quietly, to himself. If there was one limit to magic it was that the dead could not come back to life. But…when dealing with magic, who knew what the limits could be? There could very well be no limit to magic. His mentor had often said the same. But still, the death of his mentor and the nightmare of the ceremony seemed to be far too related to be just a simple coincidence.

-

Albus Dumbledore was quietly pondering in his office while simultaneously stroking Fawkes the phoenix. Petting the phoenix was calming, and Dumbledore needed that. He thought of all the potential attacks by Voldemort. He thought about the prophecy, and if it still held meaning. He thought of all the lives lost to Voldemort. He thought of his students, and wondered if they would be safe this coming year. He thought of James Potter and his family. The man was like a son to him, and Dumbledore couldn't stand seeing the man so broken as he was during the Order meeting.

He was getting too old to be commanding counterterrorism, but he would not wish the duty on anyone else. It was his lot in life to be the commander, the figurehead, the unflinching leader.

He could not shake the feeling that this was going to be his final conflict.

-

And Chapter 4 is out! Sorry it took so long. You probably don't care about excuses but I'll give one anyway. School decided to kick me in the balls by giving me a bunch of crap to do, and then I had spring break. I had most of this written, but just finally finished it, so let me know what you think!


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